


Sex, Baby, Let's Talk About You and Me

by high_functioning_sociopath



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Tony Stark, Crossdressing Kink, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Table Sex, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21742981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/high_functioning_sociopath/pseuds/high_functioning_sociopath
Summary: Steve comes home to find Tony unexpectedly on his table in lingerie.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 312





	Sex, Baby, Let's Talk About You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever smut scene, oh god. I can't flesh out a regular fic for my life and yet I somehow banged (hee) out 2.7k words of Stony table sex in a day and a half, I swear Tony was mad they didn't fuck in canon and just possessed me. "I am a SLUT, yet that cock was not in my ass ONCE, this is a DISGRACE."
> 
> I also got through like 4/5th of this before I remembered condoms were a thing, so I guess if anyone's worried, we can just pretend they've had the STD talk and are both confirmed clean lmao
> 
> PLEASE ENJOY THANKS ILY
> 
> [This red piece](https://img.grouponcdn.com/stores/hVwksNntTgNDLbfbF3bVPuuiBEx/storespi12226927-1400x840/v1/c700x420.jpg) is the lingerie Tony is wearing.

Steve is dead on his feet walking into his apartment, flicking on the overhead light absent-mindedly after tossing his keys on the little table by the door. His jacket is barely off his shoulders when he hears a deep voice greet him in a tone one might almost describe as purr.

“Welcome home, honey.”

He turns toward the sound and lets out a strangled noise as his eyes land on Tony— _ Tony _ , who he’s only been dating for a month.  _ Tony _ , who he’s barely even pet below the belt—perched on the edge of his dining room table, leaning back on his hands to show off the sheer, lacey red lingerie dress he’s wearing and looking at Steve with a predatory gaze and a small smirk on his lips, and suddenly sleep is the last thing on his mind.

His jacket drops to the floor with a soft  _ thunk _ —his wallet, probably, but who can bother to care—and openly stares, letting his eyes roam over the figure in front of him, who uncrosses his legs, but doesn’t separate them, and beckons Steve closer with a finger. Steve obeys the silent command slowly, until he’s just a few centimeters from the edge of the table and Tony’s knees, where Tony stops him with a finger.

“I made dinner,” he tells him casually, grabbing a plate Steve unsurprisingly didn’t notice was beside him on the table and holding it up, revealing a pile of spaghetti covered in a red pasta sauce. Steve’s eyes flick to the food, but quickly move back to Tony, physically unable to look away for more than a moment. He catches the self-satisfied smirk he’s given, but doesn’t have enough blood left in his brain to be annoyed.

Tony takes the fork from the table and scoops up some spaghetti, grabbing the ends with his—full, gorgeous—lips and slurping them into his mouth before chewing with an exaggerated moan and swallowing. “Orgasmic,” he says, and that was  _ definitely _ a purr, but Steve’s eyes are still trained on those lips, which now have a smattering of sauce that Steve wants nothing more than to lick off. Tony must be able to tell, because he adopts an innocent expression. “Is there something on my lips?” he asks before slowly flicking his tongue out to clean up the sauce.

A whimper reaches his ears, and it didn’t come from Tony, so it must have come from him, and Tony’s eyes practically sparkle with smugness. He twirls the fork into the spaghetti and holds it up to Steve, who take it in his mouth absent-mindedly, and if eating wasn’t second nature he’d probably choke with how little attention he’s paying to the task.

“You’ve got a little something,” Tony breathes, before leaning forward a bit, which Steve mimics in a haze of lust, and Tony licks at the sauce on Steve’s lips in a slow movement, and something in Steve  _ snaps _ .

He growls low in his chest and grab’s Tony’s sides to pull him into a kiss, but stops when Tony curses and looks down to see his shirt covered in spaghetti sauce and Tony looking at the spot with wide eyes.

“I’m s—”

Steve grabs the plate out of Tony’s hands and tosses it aside carelessly, the sound of shattering ceramic barely registering as Steve tugs off his tee and drops it onto the floor, wasting no time in pulling Tony by the back of his neck to finally connect their lips in a heated kiss, which Tony happily reciprocates, licking into his mouth as he puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders to keep steady.

He moves his hands to Tony’s ass, moaning lightly at the soft feel in his grip, and yanking him forward until his ass is on the edge of the table, swallowing his squeak of surprise and letting it melt into a moan as his painfully erect and jean-clad dick meets Tony’s barely-covered one. He ruts against him a few times, their kisses getting messier, breathier, until Steve pulls away, feeling a bubble of pride when Tony gives a whimper of his own, chasing his lips.

“Can I eat you?” he asks, too far gone to be anything but straight despite the very,  _ very _ gay scene, but if Tony’s blown pupils and fervent nodding are anything to go by, he doesn’t mind.

Steve grins, giving Tony another deep kiss before moving lower, peppering kisses along his neck, his chest, his stomach, whatever comes to Steve’s eye level as he slowly sinks to his knees until his face is level with Tony’s cock, flush with arousal, leaking pre-cum, covered in lacey red fabric exactly matching his dress, and  _ so much better _ than Steve’s fantasies had previously imagined.

“Fuck, Tony,” he breathes, before leaning forward to mouth at Tony’s shaft through the fabric, “you’re a living wet dream.”

“Trust me, I’ll be seeing you on your knees for the rest of my fucking life,” he says, voice weak and shaking with arousal.

“Good.” Steve smirks up at him through his lashes and Tony sucks in a breath through his teeth with a curse. Steve lifts a hand to tug at Tony’s thong before pouting. “This won’t do. They’re in the way,” he says with a glint in his eye before unceremoniously ripping the fabric away. “Oops.”

Tony breathes a laugh. “Fuck me right and I’ll buy a new one for next time.”

Steve shudders and he just  _ knows _ the cocky bastard is smirking at him, but he forgoes looking to lick a stripe up his length, decidedly not giving Tony a smug look when the man moans lowly, before taking the head in his mouth and sucking gently. He lets it fall from his mouth with a wet  _ pop _ , kissing down the length once, twice, three times, before taking one ball in his mouth, then the other.

“I thought you were gonna eat me,” Tony accuses, though it’s cut by the way he twitches under Steve’s touch.

“This doesn’t count?” Steve asks when his mouth is free again, looking up at Tony innocently.

“I swear to God, Steve, if you don’t get your mouth on my ass right fucking n- _ ho, holy shit _ .”

Steve grins against his hole, licking at the rim teasingly before grabbing Tony’s thighs and tugging him right to the edge, causing him to gasp and fall back onto his hands as Steve puts Tony’s legs over his shoulders, the new angle giving him better access. He lets out a pleased sound, spreading Tony’s cheeks with his hands and pressing his tongue harder against the puckered rim. Tony swears under his breath as Steve mouths at it messily before tonguing it again. It doesn’t taste like much, just clean with a hint of Tony’s usual body wash, but right now it’s the best thing Steve’s ever tasted and he squeezes and plays with Tony’s asscheeks, enjoying the gasps and moans above him, preening knowing he’s the one causing them.

He pushes the tip of his tongue against the ring of muscle, moving his hand to gently thumb at the rim, getting deeper inside before pulling away completely, Tony whimpering softly at the loss.

“My lube is in the bedroom,” Steve says, miserable at the idea of leaving a debauched Tony for even a moment.

The brunette just grins weakly. “You really think I got all prepped for table sex and didn’t grab lube? Amateur,” he says, patting the table behind him for a moment before bringing out a bottle of lube that’s definitely not Steve’s.

“Where’d you get that?” he asks, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“I brought my own. We haven’t had sex yet, for all i know you masturbate with moisturizer, and that is not going near my ass.”

Steve makes a face. “I’m a grown man, Tony, I have lube.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a paragon of good sex practices, now shut up and finger me.” He tosses the lube, which Steve catches with an amused huff before popping the cap and squeezing some onto his fingers. He puts the bottle on the floor and runs his left hand along the outside of Tony’s thigh, still resting on his shoulder, while his right warms the slick between his fingers before pressing his index finger against Tony’s hole, circling the rim teasingly before pressing inside, groaning as Tony exhales shakily.

“You like that?” he breathes, flicking his eyes up to look at Tony, who’s watching the scene, looking torn between closing his eyes and just feeling it or keeping them open and raptly watching. The man nods, and Steve doesn’t waste much time before slipping a second finger in. Tony gasps, closing his eyes and falling onto his back against the table.

“Yeah, Steve, fuck,” he moans, and Steve turns his head to place gentle kisses on his inner thigh as he pumps and scissors his fingers, stretching him out.

“Fuck, Tony,” he curses against his skin, biting down gently. “So fucking tight, can’t wait to get you on my cock, gonna feel so fucking good.”

“Then do it alrea—” Tony cuts off on a loud moan and Steve grins proudly.

“There it is,” he purrs, purposely running his fingers over that sweet spot again, reveling in how vocal Tony is, how good he feels, how good  _ Steve _ is making him feel. Emboldened, Steve moves his head again and swallows Tony’s length fully as he pulls his fingers out momentarily to push them back in along with a third.

Tony gasps out another moan, fisting his fingers into Steve’s hair, not pushing, just holding, but Steve takes him deeper anyway as he finds his prostate again, and the man whines, his hips moving up, down, unsure whether to chase the fullness in his ass or the warmth on his cock, as Steve bobs his head and presses deep. It’s not long before Tony tugs at his hair and he pops off to look at him, and he could have come just from the visual of the brunette laid across his table, skin flushed, hair a mess, and panting, watching Steve with half-lidded eyes. “Gonna come,” he says breathlessly.

“Kind of the point,” Steve teases and Tony groans.

“Wanna come on your cock. Please.”

Steve can’t be bothered to tease more, licking his lips and nodding. “Yeah. Fuck—yeah.” He spends about half a minute more stretching him before extracting his fingers to pop the button of his own pants and pull the zipper down, groaning as he frees his cock after being trapped so long. He grabs the lube bottle and stands up, taking a second to stretch his knees, popping the joints before tugging his pants off unceremoniously and kicking them to the side. He rubs himself a few times, giving an almost involuntary whimper after neglecting it far too long. His eyes move to Tony again, who’s nibbling his bottom lip and and watching Steve, looking like the hottest porn star he’s ever seen.

_ Worth it. _

He shucks his boxer briefs and kicks them in another random direction before stepping between Tony’s legs. The man holds out his arms wordless and Steve pulls him up, and Tony wraps his arms around his neck, locking their lips as Steve coats himself generously before putting the lube on the table and grabbing his hips. “Ready?” he asks, and Tony shakes his head with a soft laugh.

“Been ready for six weeks,” he says, and Steve lines himself up with Tony’s hole, slowly pushing inside, their lips touching but not really kissing as their mouths fall open with matching moans until their hips are flush against each other. Steve pulls his head away to rest his forehead on Tony’s shoulder, breathing deep as Tony nuzzles against his neck.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbles into his skin, and he can feel Tony’s please smile against his neck.

“Told you on our first date, didn’t I,” he says breathlessly, “If my ass were a steak sauce it’d be A1.”

“I still don’t know what that means,” he laughs.

“I’ll let you off the hook if you fucking move.”

Steve pulls out halfway to snap his hips forward, punching a high pitched sound out of Tony that he will most definitely deny later, before repeating the movement, sinking his teeth lightly into Tony’s shoulder before kissing it, then his neck, as he fucks into him deeply, quickly, moving his hand from Tony’s hips to his ass and squeezing, pulling him impossibly closer, and Tony only gets louder.

“Fuck, Steve, that’s fucking perfect, don’t— _ ah! Fuck!— _ don’t stop!  _ Harder! _ ”

Steve obliges all too happily, pulling out until just the head is inside before snapping forward again, out and back in, quick as he can, gasping and moaning into his neck without care.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, feel so good on my cock, so fucking tight, wanna keep you wrapped around me for the rest of my life, Jesus,” he babbles, until he captures Tony’s lips again, effectively shutting himself up in the best way possible.

He stops thrusting, buried deep, and Tony whines into his mouth. Steve shushes him gently.

“Still here, baby, just…” he exhales slowly. “Just don’t wanna finish this yet.”

Tony grins. “A1—”

Steve silences him with another kiss. He pulls out slowly and manhandles Tony farther back on the table and lays him down before crawling over him, ignoring the faint creaking sound that barely reaches his ears. He kisses him again as he lifts Tony’s hips into position before sliding back in in one quick thrust. He swallows Tony’s moans as the smaller man circles his legs around Steve’s waist, linking his ankles together and wrapping his arms around his neck.

He moves slower this time, setting a more gentle pace, punching whimpery moans out of Tony that trail in shivers down his spine as they both babble and praise each other in a synchronized haze of pleasure, neither sure what words are being said, but urging each other on anyway.

Steve puts on hand on the table by Tony’s head, using the other to lift his hips higher, hitting a new angle and preening when Tony arches his back, keening as Steve hits his sweet spot.

“Fuck, Tony,” he breathes at the sight, hitting harder, deeper,  _ better _ , “you’re perfect, Jesus, I—”

Without warning (besides the ever-present creaking the couple blissfully ignored), the table legs crack underneath them and Steve barely manages to position his hands properly in time so he doesn’t crush Tony under his weight when the tabletop crashes to the floor, punching a groan out of Tony.

“Shit,” Steve breathes, “are you okay?”

Tony stares up at him for a few moments, eyes wide, and Steve starts to pull away, make sure he’s not injured, but the brunette digs his fingers into Steve’s arms, keeping his close. “We broke the table,” he says, and Steve nods, unsure what to expect, until Tony hisses, “fuck, that’s so hot,” and reaches up to kiss him passionately again.

Steve almost questions it. Almost.

Instead, he kisses back, licking into Tony’s mouth as he grabs Tony’s hips and starts moving again, snapping his hips in a brutal rhythm, punching more gasps, moans, and whines, of various octaves, until Tony’s voice rises higher and higher on strings of creative curses.

“Close,” Steve hisses in warning, “shit, Tony, gonna come so fucking hard all over you. Mark you up so you’ll never forget about this no matter how much you scrub, yeah? You want that, baby?” 

Normally a verbal confirmation would be first choice, but the way Tony’s breath catches in his throat before he tenses around Steve with a cry, his ass, his fingers, all of his muscles clenching as he spills untouched between them, staining the lacey fabric on his stomach and chest with thick ropes of cum is about the best response he could have ever hoped for.

Steve groans a loud curse of his own as the heightened pressure on his cock rips away the tiny bit of self-control he’d been precariously holding onto and he pulls out, catching himself in hand just in time to shoot on Tony’s chest, watching his come mix with Tony’s until it’s done, the last drop falling from his tip and onto the hem of Tony’s teddy. Steve moves to the side before falling heavily on his back next to Tony with a deep, pleased sigh.

“Wow,” Tony says on a laugh.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “lingerie and spaghetti. Who knew?”

Tony turns his head to Steve, mouth spread into a grin and a glint in his eyes. “A1 ass always knows.”

Steve shuts him up with a kiss.


End file.
